


There are Things We Learn by Heart

by Skitz_phenom



Category: The Fire's Stone - Tanya Huff
Genre: Asexual Character, Blow Jobs, Declarations Of Love, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitz_phenom/pseuds/Skitz_phenom
Summary: Aaron has something he wants from Darvish, but is afraid to ask for. Fortunately he has Chandra to support him - or nag him - when the opportunity arises.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatsubtext](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsubtext/gifts).



> I loved your prompts whatsubtext, and I'm so glad I got to write this for you! I only wish I'd known your other fandoms because I'd have enjoyed writing for all of them. You asked for Aaron and Darvish consummating their feelings carefully, delicately, sweetly and hotly... and you also gave me carte blanch to 'roll around in my id'... so, I combined those two things and I sincerely hope I was able to give you a gift you can enjoy!

“… and he’s been in meetings with His Most exalted Majesty and the Crown Prince since he and his bride returned from their wedding tour early this afternoon.”

“You think they speak of war? Of moving against Ytaili? Or perhaps they talk of re-securing peace? But do you really think they’d send Darvish to Tivolic again? Is he really the man for such diplomacy? I know he’s supposedly changed, but–“

“You weren’t in the palace when he returned with The Stone, Piotre. Nor were you here for the wedding. Our Prince is a different man now.” The epithet held a hint of possession.

“Yes, and you never had to drag him out of the cheapest jolly house in the slums, Ellia. Too drunk to stand on his own; stinking of whores and wine and piss. Not that you could tell the difference between the last two in some of those places.”

“Our Prince is much more respectable now, Piotre. Don’t let anyone hear you saying otherwise.”

“You just fear the Princess. The Wizard.” The laugh that followed was mocking.

“Bugger the Nine, Piotre. Of course I do. You heard what she did to the fellow that spoke against the thief. They say his ears are furred still!”

“Ellia, that was just rumor…”

The pair of guards patrolling the long corridor in the sparsely populated east wing of the palace passed by, their low, conspiratorial conversation fading as they moved further down the hall.

Hidden in the deep shadows of a corner where the flickering lights of gilded sconces didn’t reach, Aaron nearly gave his presence away by scoffing aloud. He managed to bite back the noise but didn’t refrain from rolling his eyes. Darvish _had_ been shut behind closed doors with his most exalted father, yes, but it wasn’t any vast conspiracy or planning for invasion as these two speculated.

Aaron knew because he’d spent a few hours tucked away in a cupola in the Royal suite, listening to Dar and his father and Shahin, as they talked over matters much more prosaic. Darvish had mostly given an accounting of his views of the various capital cities during the long weeks of the tour. There’d been some talk of Tivoli, but only as it related to Princess Yasimina. She’d heard no word from King Harith since his foiled attempt at the downfall of Cisali, and she’d no wish for him to find out about her pregnancy. Learning that her own brother had conspired to have her killed along with her husband and their entire kingdom had rather soured her familial views.

The guards’ other words about Chandra were equally amusing, but those had a ring of truth. Chandra did have a tendency to overreact when either his or Dar’s names were besmirched in her presence. Although, she hadn’t _actually_ turned the man into a goat; she’d just threatened to.

Waiting until the guards had turned a corner, Aaron stepped into the light. He’d need to have words with Darvish again about the palace security. It was far too easy for him to sneak around unnoticed or unseen. Granted, he acknowledged as he walked the familiar path to Dar’s apartments, the fact that he could slip beyond the wards at will was a bit of an advantage. And it wasn’t as if Chandra would bestow that ability on anyone else.

Still. The guards were too gossipy and not nearly attentive enough. Or perhaps he was just a bit touchy about their topic of choice. Aaron wasn’t much better about keeping his tongue or temper than Chandra was. They were both wildly protective of Dar.

Who claimed he didn’t need it, but Aaron had seen the light in his eyes dim when he’d overheard wagging tongues speculating just how long his newfound virtue would last. The three of them had been wildly celebrated after their return with The Stone, and during the wedding, but absence and distance and time had dulled memories somewhat. Oh, Dar was still wildly popular among the citizenry of Ischia, but some of the Lords and lesser nobles seemed to miss the Prince Darvish who could be plied for favor with wine or other temptation.

He passed two more guards, who nodded respectfully though seemed confused about whether that was the acknowledgement he was due. Aaron just inclined his head in return, and let them wonder. He reached the door of Darvish’s rooms – well, his and Chandra’s rooms as well – and eased open the door.

“And just where were you?”

Aaron sighed. He’d not even gotten the door fully open before Chandra spoke. He’d been hoping to slip in without her the wiser.

He answered Chandra’s question with one of his own. “Have you been perched there this entire time just waiting for me?”

Sitting cross-legged on a cushion, her back to the balcony and the long rope of her chestnut plait thrown over her shoulder – the tip damp where she’d obviously been chewing at it – Chandra glowered. “Well, you _or_ Dar,” she admitted. “And it wasn’t this _entire_ time. Just the last hour or so.”

Aaron closed the door behind him and shrugged out of his cloak. He glanced around then, realizing there was no Oham or Fadi or Musaf to take his things. “Where are the dressers?”

Chandra flicked her fingers out dismissively. “I sent them away. They hover.”

She sounded petulant, moody, which was strange. She’d been in a good mood once they’d finally returned to the palace earlier in the day. Their long weeks of travel for the wedding tour had worn on her – on them all – and she’d been pleased to come back to Cisali for a few ninedays of rest before they’d all return to Chandra’s country estate together.

Concerned, Aaron went to her. He dropped to a knee and touched her shoulder. “What’s got you in a mood, most wise?”

Though her eyes narrowed, shifting to glare at him, he could see the barest hint of a grin tug at the corner of her mouth. “It’s nothing,” she said, words still clipped.

Aaron shifted to sit in front of her, mirroring her position close enough that their knees touched. “It’s something. It’s upset you.” His brows drew in, a suspicion forming in his mind. “Did someone speak against Dar? Did they say something to upset you?”

“No, nothing like that.” She shook her head abruptly. “No. I… went to the Chamber of the Fourth,” she finally said, ducking her chin.

Oh. That would definitely explain her mood. Since their return from Tivoli and her time with the Stone of Ischia, Chandra had been trying to draw Dar’s siblings away from their slavish devotion to Fourth. While on the wedding tour, she’d talked of renewing her efforts when they got back to the city, and apparently she’d kept to that pledge immediately.

“They dismissed you?”

“Oh, not entirely. But they’re just so… stubborn. They just don’t understand that there’s more to the Fourth than torture and death. They don’t want to look beyond their rituals and archaic practices.” She said it with such confusion, like she couldn’t comprehend how anyone could see things so differently. “I think if I could get one of them alone, then maybe…” she trailed off. They both knew that wasn’t very likely.

He didn’t smile at her petulant confusion, though he could practically read her thoughts: she was a Wizard of the Nine, how could two disciples of the Fourth dismiss her wisdom? Aaron cupped her shoulder again, giving it a squeeze. “You’ll reach them. Dar said that he and Shahin are even beginning to convince their most exalted father that those two can be reclaimed.”

Privately, Aaron disagreed. He didn’t think there was any bringing those two back from the depths of their depravity; then again, he was the only one of them who’d been a ‘guest’ in their chamber. His scars still ached sometimes. Still, Chandra was determined and Dar was hopeful to have more of his family brought together and Aaron could never let a little thing like torture stand in the way of that.

Chandra rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I think that Shahin and Dar want to turn them away from the Fourth altogether, and that’s just not possible. Whatever is to be done with them needs to respect that their devotion to the Fourth can’t be gotten rid of entirely.”

“Just explain it to Dar. He’ll listen. Shahin will too, I’m sure.” He grinned then, wide and knowing. “You helped ensure that his beloved wife was found innocent of treason. I think he’d grant you anything. Especially now.”

One of Chandra’s eyebrows lifted. “You have news. I can tell by that glint in your eye.” She reached out – albeit slowly – and traced a fingertip just underneath his eye, along the angle of his cheekbone.

Aaron didn’t flinch, though it was a near thing. He’d gotten much more comfortable with casual physicality, especially from Chandra. And he was pleased to see that she was making more attempts at such easy, familiar touch.

She tapped his cheek. “C’mon, out with it Aaron. What gossip do you know?”

Deliberately offhand, Aaron said, “Oh, only that all indications suggest that Princess Yasimina carries a boy.”

“Oh!” Chandra blinked, and then she smiled wide as all the implications of that set in. “That’s wonderful news. You know what this means for Dar?”

Aaron nodded. “Certainly eases some of his burden. One less reason for anyone to worry over his ambitions as a third son.”

Chandra gave an unladylike snort. “Why anyone would worry about Dar in the first place…” She let the thought trail off.

He could only nod. That was something they both agreed on. Darvish’s life would’ve been quite different had a paranoid, greedy and jealous man not felt that a third son could only ever be too ambitious and too much trouble and taken steps to rectify that.

“So where were you this afternoon?” Chandra asked, changing the subject. “I mean, other than eavesdropping on Dar.”

There’d be no denying that. She did know him too well.

“How do you know that’s not all I did?”

Rolling her eyes, she replied easily. “Well, ignoring the fact that you’d have gotten bored after only a short time, I could feel when you crossed the wards. Which means that you snuck into the Palace instead of coming through the gates like any reasonable person.”

Aaron fought a scowl. “Did you make it so I could pass through the wards just so you could keep tabs on me?” He knew he was wrong the moment he’d said it, even before Chandra’s face fell, and he hurried on before she could respond, “No, I’m sorry. Don’t… ignore I said that, please?” He reached out this time, tugging on her braid, pleased when she half smiled.

“It’s ignored,” she offered benevolently.

“Thank you. And, if you must know,” he told her, pushing past the urge to screw his mouth shut, to swallow all of this down. “I uh… went to the city. To the necropolis.”

Chandra gave a gentle smile. “To see Faharra.”

“Yes.” He’d finally told Chandra and Darvish all about her. Not just of his plans to steal the emerald, but of everything. Including how he’d gone to see her the night of the wedding. One of the many things he’d shared during the downtime of their long journey touring the nearby lands.

Eyeing him in that knowing way she had, Chandra touched his cheek again, lifting his face so their eyes met. “What’s troubling you? I know you think on her most often when you’ve got something on your mind.”

This time Aaron’s lips did press flat.

“Aaron,” Chandra gently chided. “I thought we were past all this?” She unfolded her legs suddenly, shifting off the pillow and moving to kneel at Aaron’s side. “What’s troubling you so? Is it Dar? Do you worry about him now that we’re back in his city?”

“No, it’s not…” Aaron shook his head. “It’s not worry over _that_.” He trusted Darvish, completely.

“But it _is_ about Darvish?” Chandra guessed. She stared at him, too knowingly he thought, and then moved yet again. This time she stood and held out an expectant hand. “C’mon.”

Aaron let himself be towed to his feet, and was surprised when Chandra kept her fingers tight around his as she led him to Darvish’s –her? Their?– bed. She sat down on it, and then shifted so her back was to the heavy and numerous cushions propped against the wall. With the draw of her hands and a few pointed words –“No, turn. Like this.”–she got them settled so that Aaron was half-reclined against her side, her arms around him and his head on her shoulder. It was strangely comforting and safe; oddly cocooning despite her tiny stature. “All right,” she said firmly, but he noted the tenderness in her tone as well. “Now, tell me what troubles you and we’ll figure it out together.”

It was easier like this, he realized, when he wouldn’t be able to see her looking at him with that clever sympathy. Which was obviously why she’d moved them.

When he didn’t answer right away Chandra dragged fingers through his hair, teasing and tugging the copper strands. “Come on, Aaron. You know it will help to talk.”

He nodded, head shifting under the soft stroking of her fingers. She was right. “You know that Dar and I…” Even without her eyes on him, Aaron could feel the flush rise from his neck to his ears. “That we’ve shared certain… intimacies.”

Against his cheek he heard Chandra’s breath catch and he wasn’t sure if the heat he felt there was his own, or hers. “Yes,” she replied after a rather loud swallow. “I’m… I mean. We often share adjoining rooms.” She gave a delicate cough.

“Right, well… as we’ve been travelling and accommodations are usually made with thought toward you and Dar being newly married–“

“I wish it didn’t have to be that way,” Chandra interrupted.

Aaron couldn’t let her continue down that line of thought. “Which is to be expected, and nothing that Dar and I would have otherwise.” He wrapped fingers around the hand that curled over his hip and gave a soft squeeze. “You’ve been more than supportive of us both. And we’re grateful.”

“So, what’s your concern?”

“It’s… well, there are certain, um… activities.” How to explain this to her? Yes, Chandra had matured in the months they’d known each other, but sometimes Aaron still thought of her as little more than a child. “Uh, for all the time we’ve had alone, there are still… um, things that he and I haven’t done yet.”

He could hear that Chandra held her breath. Was it shock or consideration though?

“I know…” she began slowly, “of some of the things that can go on between two people.”

“Some?” he echoed.

“I’m not entirely naïve,” she snapped.

Aaron squeezed her wrist again, in reassurance. “I know. I don’t think you are. But, these are… delicate matters. I don’t even… well, I mean.” Again he was left at a loss for words. Still, he tried. “Look, Dar has suggested that now that we’re all back here for a few ninedays, we’ll finally get the chance to really… be _alone_.” He emphasized the last, hoping she could follow his meaning.

“Ahh, you mean that you and he will get to… um.” Her fingers tightened in his hair. “Be together?”

He suspected that the heat of embarrassment rising between them would be enough to keep them warm on the coldest night. They were the saviors of Cisali, had thwarted a powerful Wizard and the scheming plot of a treacherous King, and here they were blushing as maidens. It was ridiculous.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“And… you’re nervous about that?” she sounded as though she was feeling out the answer.

“Yes,” he said again, letting the word out on a sharp breath.

It was a relief to have it said.

“And you’ve never done this particular thing?”

Aaron’s hastily blurted, “No!” was likely as much a holdover from the voice of his father that he’d excised from his head as it was nerves. “I mean… no, I have not.”

Chandra went silent a moment, though she never ceased carding her fingers, and her heartbeat was steady beneath his ear. When she spoke, her voice was measured and even. “I know you wish to meet Dar in this as an equal, but Aaron, he knows you’re not nearly as… experienced as he is. You should really talk with _him_ about this. He wouldn’t ever hurt you or–“

“I know!” Aaron hurried to say. “And he’s been… kind. Generous. He knows he leads me in these things and he never asks for more than I’m ready to give. It’s just…”

Luckily Chandra was a quick study, so she filled in the rest. “You want to be the one to offer this. Or, ask for it?”

He nodded against her shoulder. “Yes. Exactly.”

Chandra made a considering noise. “I wish I knew what to tell you, Aaron. Maybe you just need to offer him this… uh… thing. Just be honest, and–“

“Be honest about what?”

They both startled at the new voice joining the conversation.

“Darvish!”

Fighting the absolute desire to bury his face against Chandra’s neck for… ever, really (though if the mortification was more over being caught like this, or not hearing Dar entering the room, he wasn’t sure) Aaron looked over at Darvish.

He stood at the foot of the bed, smiling at them both in clear adoration. He looked… so wonderful. He was flush-cheeked and his blue eyes were wide and his dark hair was slightly tousled. He was healthy and vibrant and appallingly attractive. “And what’ve I missed here?” he asked with a laugh.

Chandra’s fingers tightened in Aaron’s hair, but he couldn’t fight his tongue lose from the roof of his mouth.

“Say something, or I’ll do it for you,” Chandra hissed in his ear.

Even under that threat, Aaron still couldn’t find words.

Except, in the meanwhile, Darvish’s expression had started to grow wary and Aaron couldn’t let it slip further into concern.

Neither could Chandra, apparently and to Aaron’s chagrin she made good on her threat. “Aaron wants to give you something, Dar. Or, well…to share something with you. But he doesn’t know how to tell you, or to ask for it.”

“Betrayer,” he whispered, but there was fondness in the word. He pressed a kiss to Chandra’s cheek, loud and smacking, before he pulled away.

“Aaron?” Dar sounded puzzled, but at least his smile had returned.

Taking a cue from Chandra, Aaron held out a hand, inviting Darvish to join them on the bed.

A man who never needed to be invited twice to anyone’s bed, Darvish was quick to kick off his sandals and climb across the mattress to settle next the two of them. He sat similar to Chandra, his back against the pillows and an arm over Aaron’s shoulders.

Being pressed between the two of them brought even firmer feelings of security and safety and home.

“Dar…” he began slowly, “there’s something I need to ask you.”

Chandra started to disentangle herself, but Aaron stopped her. “No, stay.” He grinned at her a bit sheepishly. “It’ll be easier with you here, I think.”

“Are you sure?” She looked torn between the curiosity that was always part of her nature, and the desire to give them privacy.

Aaron nodded. “If you don’t mind?”

Curiosity won out. She didn’t answer but settled back in at his side.

“I have to admit I’m getting a bit anxious here,” Darvish said it lightly, but there was a faint note of genuine concern in his voice.

Aaron rolled to his hip, facing Darvish more squarely. He felt Chandra turn with him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. She had the tail end of her braid threaded through her fingers and it tickled his neck. It was such an odd sensation and it distracted him from his nerves.

“Dar, there’s something I wanted to ask of you.”

“I’d gathered that much,” Darvish chuckled.

“It’s of a rather… personal nature.”

One of Darvish’s thick, dark eyebrows rose and he looked between the two of them speculatively. “I think I like where this is going.” The brow waggled.

“You’re such a pig.” Chandra reached past Aaron to cuff Darvish on the ear, and he retaliated by catching her forearm and bussing her messily on the inside of her wrist. She tugged her arm back and giggled helplessly into Aaron’s neck. “Stop it!”

“Right, right,” Darvish said, mock-seriously, releasing his hold. “Wizards of the Nine do not giggle. I forgot.”

“No they do not,” Chandra agreed, trying to get herself under control, but the quiver in her body pressed against Aaron’s back belied the words.

Darvish stared at them again. Well, mostly at Aaron. “So if it’s not the wildly improbable threesome of my dreams, what else could it be?”

It was easy to say it after that, because that’s what Darvish and Chandra had meant to achieve with that little scene. Sometimes it astounded Aaron the way the three of them worked together so seamlessly. It was a bit awing –not to mention downright terrifying – that they knew him so well.

“I want to be with you, Dar,” Aaron said softly. Although that wasn’t it. Not quite. “I want to… give myself to you.” He hoped his own expression could provide enough additional meaning to the words.

“Oh.” Darvish’s voice was whisper-quiet. “Um.” But he didn’t say anything else. He just stared at Aaron, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

Before the silence could get too heavy, Chandra added a very helpful, “He means sex, Dar.”

Aaron winced, but Darvish merely laughed and then gave a playful wink. “The vast and varied activities that fit into that term would surprise you, little one. But yes, I know what he means.”

He heard Chandra’s irritable snort – likely at the diminutive – but most of Aaron’s attention was on Darvish. Who hadn’t stopped grinning but was staring again. “That’s what you want? You’re sure?” he finally asked. The tremble in his voice would’ve probably gone unnoticed by anyone else.

“Yes,” Aaron answered. He was more than sure.

“You know you don’t have to,” Darvish went on in a careful tone. “I mean, I love everything we do now. I’d be forever happy if that’s all we ever did. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, Dar. And I love it too. I just want to… be with you, like this.”

“Right.” Darvish gave a quick bob of his head. “That’s… I mean, you know that if you wanted…uh, the same from me. Uh, the reverse?” He did something complicated with his fingers that was too confusing to really interpret as anything sexual, but Aaron got the gist. “I mean, I’d gladly,” Darvish’s eyes flicked past Aaron to Chandra and then narrowed a bit devilishly, “ _take_ what you have to offer.” His smile got even toothier.

Imagining that he could hear Chandra’s eyeroll, Aaron let out a low chuckle. “I know you would, Dar. And it’s not that I’m opposed to that idea. Not at all. Far from it,” he added just a bit rough, because the thought certainly got his pulse jumping. “It’s just,” he spread his hands, “I want this. I want to give you this.”

Darvish grasped one of Aaron’s hands before he could let it fall back into his lap, and he drew it to his mouth. After placing a kiss across Aaron’s knuckles he said, “And I want to share that with you. You have no idea how much.”

Aaron caught at Darvish’s lower lip with the thumb that was still held close to his jaw. “I think I have some idea.”

He might’ve gotten a bit more caught up in the moment if it hadn’t been for the sigh of breath that gusted across his ear. “Yes, that’s all well and good. But Aaron’s never done this before, Dar. You need to make sure you tread with care. You can’t just expect that he’ll know…”

Darvish’s eyes widened further and further with each word, while Aaron managed to crane his neck so that he could look back at Chandra (perhaps a bit apoplectic).

She trailed to silence with both of their eyes on her, bottom lip caught in her teeth and a flush high on her dusky cheekbones. When she spoke again her tone was wry. “I’ve said enough, haven’t I?”

Aaron’s laugh was buoyant and uncontrollable, bubbling out of him despite the fire burning across every exposed part of him, and he fell forward into Darvish’s arms, gasping with it against a firm and well-muscled chest. He felt as Darvish curled over him, his helpless chuckles hot and sputtering against Aaron’s neck.

A smaller hand came to rest on his lower back, patting him. “Aaron,” Chandra said somewhat primly, “you’re on your own now.”

“I think we’ll manage,” Darvish answered as Aaron was too busy getting his breath back.

Both of Chandra’s arms came around him from behind, one reaching past to entangle Darvish as well in a messy sort of hug. From the movement above him, a certain press of limbs and pressure, he was certain that Darvish was hugging her – them – just as tight. Aaron got an arm hooked back to catch at her hip, while the other clasped tight to Darvish’s ribs.

There was a moment’s thought – brief and barely formed – where Aaron wished he felt the same physical pull toward her as he did Darvish. Or that she could feel attraction to Darvish, at least, if not him. How much easier would things be if the three of them could… He shook it off with a blink of suspiciously damp eyes. That was an uncharitable thought; it was easy enough for the three of them, and he cherished his friendship with Chandra the same way that he cherished his love for Darvish.

“Be good to him,” Chandra said and then untangled herself from the awkward knot of bodies and limbs. She didn’t specify who she meant the words to, but then she didn’t have to.

Aaron waited until he heard her light footfalls – bare feet padding against expensive rugs and smooth marble – fade to silence and then he finally straightened to look at Darvish. Who was staring after Chandra with the strangest look on his face. “What is it?”

Darvish gave a little shake of his head, like clearing cobwebs, and then turned to Aaron. “Just continually surprised by our little Wizard of the Nine,” he said. “I probably don’t want to ask how all of that,”–he gestured to the air between them and the door that Chandra had closed behind her–“started, do I?”

Giving a half-shrug, Aaron explained as much as he understood, “She’d been to see the twins. I suspect when she couldn’t knock any sense into their heads, she figured she’d help knock some into ours?”

As always happened whenever Aaron mentioned Shakana and Kasil, Darvish’s eyes got soft, cerulean skies clouding over, and a frown tugged at his lips. Aaron didn’t roll his eyes, though he did wish Darvish would stop worrying. He was _fine_. Although the agony he’d experienced in the Chamber of the Fourth at the hands of the twins wasn’t something he’d forgotten – would ever forget – it was hard to blame them, specifically. What they’d done, while horrific, wasn’t deliberate the way his father’s actions had been; they’d just reacted as they would have with any body brought to them for punishment. They may have relished in his responses, but Aaron remembered very little of it except the pain. Well, that and Darvish taking him away from that pain.

To distract him, Aaron poked at Darvish’s chest playfully. “I think our little Chandra feels that she’s not getting the recognition she deserves. Perhaps we could have Musaf follow her around, pronouncing ‘Wizard of the Nine’ to everyone she talks to? Just as a reminder.”

Darvish’s smile returned along with his laugh and he shook his head as he chortled. “You are lucky you didn’t say that in front of our most wise. She’d have had your balls on a platter!”

Aaron did know that, which is why he hadn’t made that humorous suggestion in front of her… yet. He was saving it for when she was being particularly ‘more Nine than thou’. “Give me some credit, Dar. I value my balls where they are.”

Smile immediately angling in a very wicked way, Darvish remarked, “As do I.”

This time Aaron did roll his eyes, though he ignored the entendre to ask, “And what about you? How did it go with your father? You were secreted away with him and Shahin a very long time.”

Darvish snorted noisily. “Don’t pretend you weren’t listening in. We may not be soul-linked anymore, but I can tell when you’re near.”

Aaron gave a culpable shrug. “I wasn’t there the whole time. I got eternally bored listening to all of you fill each other in on the latest politics. And if you can tell when I’m near, you’ll know what I may have missed.”

“Strangely, nothing of import.” Darvish answered, but there was a self-satisfied – if slightly confused – sort of pleasure in the words. “We just… chatted. My father’s itinerary for the day was surprisingly light, so he pushed aside a meeting with the First Lords of the Navy and insisted we have dinner in his rooms. The three of us. It was strange.” He canted his head as he thought about it, never losing that puzzled smile. “Nice, though. Rather unexpected.” Then he gave another of those derisive sniffs. “Though, I expect the fact that I’ll be leaving Cisali in two or three ninedays, not to mention the impending arrival of Shahin’s son, have done much to ease his mind.”

It pleased Aaron that there was no self-recrimination in the words. He was matter-of-fact about his most exalted father’s expectations and opinion of him. Much as Chandra had matured over the last few months, Darvish had grown much more self-aware. Or perhaps that wasn’t exactly accurate. Darvish had always been rather painfully self-aware, but chose to ignore those innermost insights or drink them into oblivion. Lately he’d been facing them head-on and learned to accept those he could not change.

Aaron tried to somehow acknowledge all of that with a simple grin. “Still, it was a nice afternoon for you, and I’m glad of it.”

“It certainly exceeded my expectations.”

He took up Darvish’s hand, bringing it close to his chest. “Well, hopefully this night will exceed your expectations too.”

Grin getting a bit sloppy, Darvish loosed his fingers from Aaron’s grip enough to tangle them in the collar of his tunic. He tugged and Aaron fell forward, landing in a sprawl astride Darvish’s bent knee. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

“No,” Aaron shook his head with an amused sniff. “No, you’d have come up with a much better line than that.”

Darvish threw his head back and laughed; it was a brief and unflattering honk of noise. “Well, that’s probably true,” he conceded, looking back down into Aaron’s eyes. “But I appreciate the sentiment, regardless.” He touched the side of Aaron’s face, running fingers along his jaw. “You know, what you offered before… it doesn’t have to be tonight. We’ve got time. I’m in no rush.”

Turning to kiss the fingers tracing at his chin, Aaron said against them, “But _I_ am. I want this, Dar. Tonight… now.” He nipped at Darvish’s thumb, getting the digit between his teeth and sucking softly at it.

Darvish groaned and managed a shaky nod. “At your pace then, Aaron.”

Letting the thumb slip from his mouth, Aaron lunged forward instead, catching at Darvish’s mouth in a fierce, greedy kiss. He’d come to know every press of those lips, every soft curve and the plush, damp heat of them and the slick slide of a tongue against his, and still he craved to know more.

He tangled his fingers of one hand in Darvish’s hair, loving the way it always felt so soft after he’d indulged in a long bath (He’d insisted on one before meeting with his father, citing the need to wash off the road dust, though both he and Chandra had teased that Darvish was simply missing being pampered). He’d let it grow back since their adventures in Ytaili, the swordsman’s cut now grown to shoulder length again. It was of a length similar to when they’d first met and Aaron would find himself caught-up in watching the play of light over blue-black strands when Darvish tossed his head to flick errant locks away from his face. Twining even more in his fingers, Aaron clenched them into a fist, both to hold him steady and to feel the vibrations of Darvish’s low moan against his mouth.

He got his other hand to Darvish’s collar, deftly working at the laces of his billowy silk shirt. He could feel Darvish trying to help, yanking at the fastenings of his cuffs and shouldering off the embroidered vest. Aaron felt more than saw the garment fly past his ear and heard the whuff of it landing somewhere on the floor. Their fingers ended up getting tangled as they both fought to loosen the corded belt tied around his waist.

Darvish finally pulled away, mouth smearing against Aaron’s, to gasp, “My shirt, Aaron. Let me…” He didn’t get the rest of the words out but demonstrated his intent by hooking his fingers in the hem and hastily peeling the shirt up over his head. Seams protested the rough treatment, tearing under an arm when Darvish got a bit caught up, but he tossed the ivory silk to the side with a triumphant shout.

Aaron stared greedily as each inch of skin was exposed. He’d put forth a significant effort in those early days trying not to look at Darvish’s bare chest–and the bare rest of him– and now it seemed he couldn’t look his fill. In the lamplight, Darvish’s tawny skin was gilded and already gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat. He had already regained most of the weight and muscle he’d lost on the beach, and even as they went from carriage to boat to wagon in their recent travels, he’d always found time to keep up with his training. As a result, his chest was firm and well-muscled and lightly furred with dark springy hair that trailed invitingly down a taut belly.

Pushing Darvish back on the bed and moving to straddle strong thighs, Aaron followed that trail with his fingers, loving the way that Darvish’s skin juddered beneath the softest scrape of a fingernail. He teased at the hem of Darvish’s trousers, dipping his fingers below the edge. Darvish’s cock was firm beneath the fabric – the outline clearly delineated and straining the shiny blue material. Aaron pressed the pad of his thumb over the small damp spot at the tip.

Darvish moaned again, low and rumbling. He covered Aaron’s hand with his own, dragging it down, shaping it over his cock and pressing firm.

“Greedy,” Aaron accused.

“Desperate,” Darvish countered. “And overdressed.”

Aaron agreed with that, so shucked off his own shirt in a quick move, shoving it to the floor and then curled over Darvish’s body, feeling their skin slowly press together.

Darvish threw his head back, exposing the long line of his throat and Aaron bent his head, lipping at Darvish’s jaw and his ear and then down the line of his throat. He sucked faint bruises into the thin skin over a collarbone and caught a pert nipple between his lips, teasing it to pebbled hardness.

“Bugger the Nine,” Darvish cursed, clenching his fingers into the crimson bedcovers. “Are you sure you want to do this your way ‘round?” he asked, voice hoarse already. “Because I’m ready to roll over for you right now.”

“Nine above,” Aaron breathed. The pulse beneath his lips was racing and every place he was touching Darvish’s skin he could feel it humming with tension. It was so tempting… a word, a nod, a gesture and he knew he’d have Darvish on his knees, begging, pleading for Aaron to take him.

But Aaron wanted to be the one with Darvish’s weight holding him down. He wanted the hot press of Darvish’s body sliding over his. He wanted to know what it felt like to have Darvish inside of him. “Next time,” he promised. “Next time I will give you everything you ask for.”

Darvish’s expression went distant, like he was already thinking ahead to that next time, but Aaron wanted him here, now. He rocked his hips slowly, rolling his cock against Darvish’s. Blue eyes flashed up to his, wide and almost black with desire.

Aaron let his mouth curl into a grin he hoped looked at least a bit lascivious, and scooted further down Darvish’s legs. He got his fingers in the hem of Darvish’s trousers again, loosened the ties and then slowly began to roll them down. He let his knuckles drag across the hot skin of Darvish’s cock. Every touch elicited breathy gasps and low curses and Aaron relished each whimper of sound. When he got the trousers down to the tops of Darvish’s thighs, he wrapped one hand around the base of Darvish’s cock, holding it firm. Aaron bent his head and exhaled a hot breath over the tip. It jumped in his hand, and Aaron grinned.

He kissed there then, and then tongued the little stretch of skin beneath the head because it always made Darvish squirm. He had to press his forearm over Darvish’s hips, pinning him down as best he was able, and then he slowly eased his mouth down Darvish’s impressive length until his lips met his fist. There’d been a very good reason Dar was popular with noble and whores alike, and it wasn’t just that he was a Prince with more coin than good sense.

Every time he did this, it took him a few moments to get used to the strain against his jaw and the stretch of his cheeks. He moved slow, gliding his mouth and lips and tongue over Darvish’s cock in steady, languid strokes.

“Aaron,” Darvish hissed out after only a few minutes of it, and to Aaron’s surprise he felt Darvish’s hands grappling at his head and shoulder. “Wait… wait.”

He pulled off with a wet pop and looked up, concerned. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No!” Darvish blurted, almost squeaking. “No, it’s not wrong. It’s just too much. I’ll spend myself before you’re even naked at this rate.”

Aaron squeezed the base of Darvish’s cock. “That’s the whole point, Dar. You told me once that… um, the first time that I...” Silly that he had a cock in his hand but struggled with the words to describe the acts they shared. “The first time I took you into my mouth, you said that if you were to ever get your cock elsewhere inside of me, you’d better have off yourself first, else you’d spend in an instant.”

Darvish’s face screwed up in a rather humiliated cringe. “Yes, I remember. And then I went and came in your mouth and on your cheek, when you weren’t ready for it.”

“And my nose,” Aaron added wryly, and then he laughed saucily. “But I’m flattered that my mouth on your cock was enough to affect even one of your legendary stamina.”

“Oh, there’s no shame in going off that early.” Darvish went on after rolling his eyes at the jibe, correcting his assumption. “I just regret I didn’t give you fair warning.”

Knowing his cheeks were crimson – the memory of how he’d coughed and sputtered and spat all over Dar’s belly while Darvish muttered urgent apologies and tried to wipe at his face with the edge of a sheet – Aaron rolled his eyes right back. “Well, give me warning this time, would you?” He loved doing this for Dar, the taste of his skin and the weight on his tongue, but…he’d never gotten very good at swallowing.

Darvish reached down to tangle his fingers in Aaron’s hair. “I will.”

Aaron went down again, taking Darvish deep as he could, sucking gently and using his fingers to stroke the length he couldn’t quite manage. He could feel Darvish’s fingers tightening rhythmically in his hair, timed to every up-down slide of Aaron’s mouth. He sped up, sucking harder and working his tongue against the shaft; it was wet and messy, his slippery fingers just holding now, squeezing the base of Darvish’s cock tight. Darvish’s thighs began to tremble and Aaron gave up on holding Darvish down, keeping him from thrusting too hard with only the circle of his fist and moving his other hand instead to cup the tightening sack of Darvish’s balls. He rolled them gently against the flat of his palm and swallowed around the head of Darvish’s cock.

Fingers clenched in Aaron’s hair, tugging him away urgently. He let Darvish’s cock slip out of his mouth, drawing his head back, but with his spit-slick fingers, resumed the same hurried pace he’d set with his mouth. Darvish got a hand around himself as well, and together they stroked him to completion. He came with a low, reedy groan, the first pearly splashes landing high on his chest, and then striping his belly.

Aaron took his hand away and let Darvish finish wringing out the last few pulses on his own. He dragged a sticky hand in the sheets and then wiped the back of his forearm across his mouth while Darvish panted raggedly.

“And… now I’m done for the night,” Darvish said, giving a breathless laugh.

Waggling a finger at him, Aaron tsked, “I don’t think so, Dar.” He tapped the fingertip on Darvish’s half-flaccid cock, smirking when it twitched. “I think you’ll be ready to go again soon enough.” He eased himself from between the spread of Darvish’s knees and crawled up to lay at his side. “In the meantime, I think there are other things you could concentrate on.”

“Oh?” Darvish played at nonchalance. “What things would those be?”

Aaron wanted to continue teasing, but he wanted Darvish to touch him more. If he asked, he knew Darvish would never refuse. Still, it sent a flush up his neck to the tips of his ears as he tried to think on how to word his request. “I, uh… understand that, especially this first time, we should… um… ease into things. That it helps to, ah… use oil and fingers?”

“Who’ve you been talking too?” Darvish asked, eying him askance. “And when?”

“Karida,” Aaron admitted. “And it was before we left. She was checking on my burns from the cage. I think she had an idea that we’d,”–he made an indistinct gesture with a hand, waving over the two of them –“well, end up here. She quizzed me about some very personal matters. And, uhh… was kind enough to answer a few questions for me.”

Much to Aaron’s surprise, Darvish didn’t react with amusement or to laugh about the Healer’s nosy nature. Instead his eyes were wide, and staring with a kind of guileless wonder.

“What is it?”

“You asked Karida? Back then?” He took Aaron’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “You thought about this even then? We’d hardly even kissed at that point.”

Aaron ducked his chin, recalling Karida’s frank words and his utter mortification when she’d spoken them. “Well, I hadn’t known what might happen… or when. But I knew I wanted you, Dar. For a lot longer than I let myself admit.”

“Oh, well that’s…” he didn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence. “I’ll be so careful with you, Aaron. Trust me in that.”

Grey eyes lifted to catch and hold blue. “Dar, of course I trust you.” He held his breath a moment, and held back the words that wanted to leave his tongue. The ones he’d been holding onto for so very long. And then he stopped fighting and let them loose. “I love you.”

Darvish’s eyes glistened between one blink and the next and he rolled into Aaron, cradling his face between large hands and kissing him sweetly. “I love you, Aaron,” Darvish said against his lips, and Aaron could feel as they formed each word. “And I thank the Nine Above and One Below every day for bringing you… you and Chandra, into my life.” He pressed his mouth against Aaron’s again. Not kissing, just breathing against him.

“Show me,” Aaron whispered. “Show me how much you love me. Let me _feel_ it.”

Darvish nodded, so close to Aaron that the motion of it rocked his own head up and down. “Yes, l can show you. Yes.”

Aaron grinned wolfishly. He nipped at Darvish’s plump bottom lip. “Then show me. Now.”

Giving one last, searing kiss, Darvish backed away and nodded again.

As Darvish had already pushed his trousers down to his knees and kicked them off, Aaron shimmied out of his to get them on equal footing. He’d need to be naked for this, after all.

While he did that, Darvish stretched across the mattress, reaching at a small side-table. He fumbled for the curved door at the front, got it open and searched inside. When he drew his hand back he was clutching a stoppered decanter. Inside, reflecting lamplight, was some viscous liquid that sloshed sluggishly against the clear glass.

Aaron lifted a demon-wing brow. “We’ll need that much oil?”

“It never hurts to have it at hand,” Darvish replied with a shrug.

“I’ll take your word for that.” Aaron laughed. “Uh, speaking of. How, um… do you want me? Should I roll over.” He started to do so until Darvish shook his head.

“No, stay like this. On your back.”

Darvish was the one who moved, rolling up to his side; his chest, hip and thigh pressed tight against Aaron’s bare ribs and flank. “Spread your legs,” he instructed. “Lean on me.”

Aaron wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t Darvish’s hand lightly fondling his cock or the soft press of lips against his neck. The oil was readied… why wasn’t Dar using it?

“Dar–“ he began, but Darvish shushed him with a soft noise.

“Just relax.”

It wasn’t precisely _relaxing_ , Darvish mouthing his throat and stroking him leisurely, but it was definitely something that Aaron could lie back and enjoy. Darvish trailed his kisses over Aaron’s ear and his jaw and his collar, while the hand migrated from its teasing play over his cock to dragging knuckles across his inner thighs and lightly kneading his balls. Aaron’s knees fell open further and two of Darvish’s fingers pressed gently at the smooth stretch of skin behind his balls.

Eyes half-lidded, Aaron watched as Darvish quite deftly managed to unstopper the oil decanter and pour a thin stream into the palm of his other hand where it stilled massaged him in that tender place. The drizzle of oil over his cock was its own unique sensation and Aaron’s body couldn’t seem to decide if it tickled or not.

Even after Darvish’s hand was generously coated in oil and Aaron could feel it seeping down his thighs and into the cleft of his ass, he still didn’t deviate from the slow stroking and rubbing. The oil made everything slippery and oddly indistinct. He couldn’t differentiate the two fingers any longer. If it weren’t for the fact that he could see Darvish’s other hand still clutching the decanter, he’d have questions how many fingers were at work down there.

Aaron was patient – he’d had to be in his line of work – but Darvish’s continued gentle ministrations taxed even his hard-fought calm. Though, after a few more overlong minutes under the expert hands, Aaron understood his purpose: the skin there was hyper sensitive, and the slide and stroke of Darvish’s fingers made the whole area tingly and almost numb with sensation.

“Easy, now,” Darvish whispered. He bent his head lower, shifting his body so that he could get his mouth on Aaron’s cock and still keep his fingers in place.

The tip of one finger _finally_ pressed in. Aaron frowned at the intrusion. It wasn’t painful at all, though it wasn’t very pleasurable either. But Darvish had asked for his trust, so Aaron forced his muscles to go lax and tried to focus on the mouth lipping at his softening cock.

He must’ve groaned or made a noise that Darvish interpreted as despairing. “Don’t worry,” Darvish said. “Your body is reacting normally. Give it time.”

The finger pressed in further at the same time that Darvish slurped Aaron’s cock back into his mouth. The heat and warmth of it distracted from the slight pinch of skin and muscle stretching against intrusion. It was a strange dichotomy: the familiar suck of Darvish’s mouth and swirling of his tongue, contrasting against the faintly full, ‘wrongness’ of the finger that now gently pushed in and out in little pulses.

Somehow, Darvish managed to maneuver the oil bottle and poured even more into his hand – the sheets below would be a loss! – and then he got the stopper back in the end and set it aside. Though Aaron noticed that he kept it propped upright in the blankets within arm’s reach. Maybe they _would_ go through the whole bottle?

He was distracted from his focus on the oil by the sensation of Darvish slowly pulling his finger out and then pressing back in with two. This time there was a slight burn – Darvish had large hands and thick fingers – but it still didn’t hurt. Nor could Aaron understand how this was such a pleasure, either. Oh, he could understand how it would feel good to sink his cock into a tight, hot passage, but being on the receiving end was just… disconcerting and mildly uncomfortable.

Until it wasn’t. “One below,” he gasped and cursed all in the same sudden exhale. There was suddenly a spark of heat, of… something so _good_ … so pleasurable. He couldn’t focus on where it was… deep in his balls? The base of his spine? It felt like that moment right before coming, but frozen and tenfold in intensity. And then it vanished.

Around his half-hard cock Darvish smiled. His eyes danced merrily in the lamplight as he looked up from beneath the feathery wings of dark lashes to gaze at Aaron, gauging his pleasure.

“What was that?” Aaron wondered aloud, still buzzing with the sensation.

Darvish let Aaron’s cock slip from his mouth. “That, my dear Aaron, is the reason buggery is such a popular pastime in Cisali.” His smile curled into his cheeks. “Just relax,” he instructed again.

He felt Darvish’s finger ease almost all the way out of him, and then they pushed back in, and again he felt that jolt of ‘something’ indescribable. Instead of pulling back, Darvish seemed to push in further and the sensation went on and on. It overwhelmed him. Almost too much to be pleasurable, but at the same time, that’s the only thing it was.

Aaron arched his back, hips surging upward, his body instinctually lifting into that pleasure. He writhed, his head mashing into the pillows, thrashing side-to-side as the feeling continued, unabated. It pulsed and throbbed and… ached. His cock hardened without the touch of Darvish’s lips and he could feel wetness dribble onto his belly.  

“I can’t…” he whined, though he wasn’t sure what the words meant.

“I know,” Darvish told him tenderly. “Just hold on.”

Aaron wanted release, but his body was confused. It felt so much like he’d been coming, nonstop while Darvish’s fingers worked at gliding over that spot, and his balls were tight and aching, but he couldn’t spend. Maybe friction on his cock would do it? He wanted to ask for it, but the words fought against the choking, dry scorch of his breath.

“Dar…”

“Okay… shhhh. Okay.” Darvish drew the fingers away slowly and the feeling faded from its peaking intensity, to a low-level thrum of want…want… want that pulsed with each beat of his heart.

Aaron collapsed against the mattress, feeling limp as a ragdoll and yet he’d not come and his cock throbbed and there was fire pooling at the base of his spine.

Vaguely he registered that there was more oil, and he was boneless and pliant as Darvish rolled him to his side. He felt the heat of Darvish’s skin plaster all along his back. One of Darvish’s arms snaked beneath his body to wrap tight around his chest anchoring him, and the other hooked Aaron’s thigh just above the knee and bent it up toward his body.

“Hold on, love,” Darvish murmured into his ear. “I’ve got you.”

Had he any sense left, Aaron might’ve protested the diminutive, but words fled his tongue when he felt the hot press of something large and blunt against his ass. If he’d not been worked into an absolutely puddle by pleasure, he suspected the feel of Darvish’s cock slowly breaching him might’ve hurt. As it was, the initial discomfort of the pressure and stretch sapped some of the euphoria, and he felt his cock go limp against his thigh.

But Darvish’s hand was there, like he knew it would happen, and he looped a thumb and finger around the base, the other fingers splayed to the side, holding him steady as he pushed his cock all the way inside. The fullness… the feel of Darvish so deep within him was strange… unsettling and yet pleasurable in a way that wasn’t physical.

Slowly Darvish’s hips pulled back and Aaron felt the briefest stutter of that sparking zing within him. It happened again when Darvish thrust back in deep and steady. It teased at him, hinting further pleasure that stayed just out of reach with the lazy, indulgent rocking of Darvish fucking into him.

“More,” Aaron grunted. “Dar, I won’t… I won’t break.”

Darvish’s low laugh sent a warm gust over his ear. “I know, Aaron. I know. We’ll get there.”

Despite his teasing, the tempo of Darvish’s thrusts increased. He kept Aaron held close with the firm press of his hands and drove his cock deep. The measured… slowly building pace of his fucking was maddening and overwhelming all at once. Aaron’s back bowed against the sweat-slick skin of Darvish’s chest and he cried out, wordlessly begging for more.

Hot breath steamed against his neck as a panting Darvish pounded into him over and over, pistoning his hips, and Aaron’s fingers scrabbled at the sheets, clenching and fisting in them.

“Dar,” he croaked, throat scraped raw, “Dar…. Dar.” The name was a low, repetitive ululation escaping on every pant, rising to a keen of senseless noise as Darvish’s fingers closed firm around his cock. He didn’t even need to move his hand; the frantic, rhythmic rolling of Darvish’s hips pushed Aaron’s cock into his fist and the dual-sensation pushed him over the edge.

When he came it was like the first time they’d tested the limits of the soul-link, a sudden and sharp spike, albeit this time of all-over pleasure, that would’ve staggered him if he’d been upright. Nearly pinned to the bed under Darvish’s driving weight, Aaron could only jerk helplessly as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his cock pulsing into the ring of Darvish’s fingers.

Nearly driven to incoherence, and perhaps a bit pleasure-addled, it took Aaron a moment to realize that he was still being frantically fucked. Darvish’s breath steamed like a bellows and his hips began to thrust arhythmically, slamming into Aaron in brief, fierce little jerks until his body went all-over tense, and his hands clenched bruisingly tight and he shouted his release. Aaron cried out again as he felt the pulse of Darvish coming deep inside of him, the faintest hint of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure. It was nearly too much.

“Nine and One,” Darvish sputtered, his voice a ragged whisper. “All the Nine Above… and the One Below, Aaron…” He collapsed against Aaron then, his body flattening Aaron to the sheets.

Aaron could only nod his agreement. Words were beyond him at this point.

They lay like that for a very long time, both of them gasping and panting and getting their breath back and feeling the sweat cool on their bodies.

“Hold on, Aaron,” Darvish said finally, a lifetime later it seemed. “This may sting.”

He got his hand down by Aaron’s ass, and Aaron wondered for a moment what he was talking about, and then Darvish carefully eased his spent cock from Aaron’s body and he understood, hissing at the brief flare of discomfort. The weird sensation of semen dribbling down the cleft of his ass wasn’t something he’d expected either. It was strange.

“Sorry. Sorry… that happens sometimes.”

Dripping aside, Aaron’s whole body felt pleasantly achy and sore, and used in a way that was unfamiliar, but not necessarily bad. “It’s okay, Dar,” he said reassuringly, reaching back to pat at whatever part of Darvish was in the path of his hand. “I’m okay. I’m good. I’m very, very good.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. I mean… I thought so. From your reaction.” He sounded endearingly awkward.

“You read those reactions right. That was… rather amazing. You’re _very_ good at that.”

Darvish laughed softly. “I should be; for a while it was one of the only things I was any good at.” Oddly there was none of the deprecation in the words that Aaron used to bristle at. Just a calm, matter-of-fact acceptance.

“Well, I know, but I mean… I didn’t expect it to feel so good. You made it… you made me feel, incredible.” Admitting that made Aaron just the faintest bit uncomfortable and he had to keep his mind focused, else he worried that the voice of Faharra (or even his father) might have words to add.

Darvish kissed the nape of Aaron’s neck. “I’m glad. I wanted to… I dunno. Show you how I feel about you with that. I mean, I tell you and I know you believe me. But I wanted to…” –his hand grappled at air, like he was trying to pull the right words from it– “make that love come through.”

“Oh, it did. You don’t have to worry there, Dar. I’ve never felt so loved.” He laughed as he said it, but it was the truth.

Darvish kissed his neck again, and Aaron could feel that his mouth was shaped into a wide smile.

“C’mon,” Darvish said just a moment later, and slapped a hand over Aaron’s flank.

“Huh?”

Sitting up, Darvish told him, “You’ll want to clean-up, trust me. Nothing like waking up with your ass cheeks glued to the sheets. You wipe down and I’ll strip the top sheet. It’s probably unsalvageable.” He sighed, melodramatically. “Oham is going to give me that disappointed glare.”

Aaron snorted. “Have Musaf do it then.”

Darvish’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t think I want him knowing why the bed is in the state it’s in. Maybe it’s a holdover of when he was the Chancellor’s eyes and ears in my room, but I still don’t quite trust him fully.”

“You’re the one who kept him on as your third dresser,” Aaron chided. He dodged the hand that Darvish slapped at him, rolling away and then getting nimbly to his feet. A motion he regretted after he stood and realized that his legs were entirely made of jelly, and his ass rather ached. Moving with care – and refusing to acknowledge Darvish’s knowing chuckle – he followed Darvish’s instructions and went to the bath chamber to clean up.

When he returned, Darvish had stripped the sheets and replaced them with fresh ones – although he didn’t quite go so far as to tuck them in – and was piling the myriad pillows back at the head of the bed. Aaron stopped a few paces into the room and watched. Darvish had always been utterly unselfconscious in his nakedness, and Aaron appreciated that more and more every day. Unfortunately the past several ninedays of travel limited the opportunities for casual nudity. Putting the bed back in order while bared to nothing but skin was such a ubiquitous, ‘Darvish’ thing, and it reminded Aaron that they were home. (Well, Chandra’s estate would soon become their permanent home, but Darvish’s apartments here in the Royal Palace of Cisali, would always feel like Aaron’s first real home).

“Come on, my thief,” Darvish called over his shoulder after he got the heavy comforter thrown back over the hastily laid sheets. “Your bed awaits.” He turned and waggled his brows. “As does your Prince.”

Aaron couldn’t help the snort of amusement. “Well _your_ Prince is well ready for bed.” He crossed the room and stepped close to Darvish, pausing to kiss him lingeringly. Darvish kissed back and his hands groped at Aaron’s hips. Even his cock stirred faintly at the touch of their bodies.

“You’re rather insatiable aren’t you?”

Darvish just grinned. “Now that I’ve known the pleasures that I can bring you? Yes, I am. And I suspect I will remain that way for all of our days.”

Aaron’s heart thumped. Leave it to Darvish to declare his wish for their long future together in such an offhand, unquestioning way. The certainty in his voice made Aaron’s throat tight. “And I’ll endeavor to put up with it for equally as long.” How easy it was to promise forever. “But, tonight I’m afraid that I’m spent. So we’ll sleep. And then tomorrow we’ll have to see if you can teach me how to bring you that same kind of pleasure.”

Grinning toothily, Darvish nodded. “I’d like that.”

They climbed into the bed, Darvish lying in a sprawl on his back and Aaron curling into the bulky warmth of his side, drawing Darvish’s arm over him. They pulled the covers up and settled together, fitting like they were meant to be.

 “G’night, Aaron,” Darvish said, sounding sleepy already. “Love you.”

Aaron didn’t say it again, but he hugged Darvish’s arm tight, and knew that Darvish didn’t need to hear the words to know it was true. “Good night, Dar.” Aaron replied softly.

Unsurprisingly, Darvish was asleep in moments and Aaron lay quietly, feeling the rise and fall of Darvish’s chest as the slow, steady breaths lulled him to follow; a better soporific than any healer’s tonic he’d even been given. He’d just about drifted off, eyelids too heavy to lift, when the faint sound of a latch slipping caught his ear. Breath caught in his throat, Aaron lifted his head from the pillow of Darvish’s chest, straining to see what had made the noise. The familiar silhouette in the doorway answered the question for him and he loosed a relieved sigh.

The tension in his body, and release of it, must’ve alerted Darvish because he jerked awake, muttering, “Wha’s it? Aaron?”

Aaron patted at his chest soothingly. “It’s all right, Dar. It’s just Chandra.” He raised his voice just far enough to carry across the room. “No need to hover. Come in.”

Chandra tiptoed across the room – though why she tried to be so careful when they were both awake he had no idea – and came to stand at the side of the bed. “It’s so quiet in there,” she said by way of explanation.

Aaron could understand that. They’d shared quarters more often than not during the wedding tour, and he’d gotten used to falling asleep to the faint rumble of Dar’s light snoring and Chandra’s whistling breathes. He imagined Chandra had grown accustomed to the same. He’d never begrudge her the comfort he’d found. He shifted over and peeled back the covers, making the invitation obvious.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” She had her braid in her hand, already chewing nervously at the end.

“Nonsense,” Aaron told her.

“Chandra,” Darvish added in a rough, bearish, grumble. “Just get into bed.” He held out an arm, waving his fingers vaguely.

With both of their approbation, she climbed onto the bed. Instead of settling between Darvish and Aaron, where he’d made room, she snuggled on Darvish’s other side. He lumbered over further in the bed in an awkward shuffle a few seconds later, muttering, “Damn wizards and their damn bony elbows.” But Aaron – who’d propped himself on an arm to look across the rise of Darvish’s chest – could see that Chandra had tucked up along his side, her head pillowed on Darvish’s chest and his arm curved around her shoulders protectively.

Aaron took a similar position on the other side and then got the blankets dragged up over the three of them. He thought back to his earlier lapse, when he’d felt that modicum of regret about things not being different, and called himself a fool.

 _This_ felt right. Righter than anything he’d ever known. His and Dar’s love and the pleasure they shared were as right as Chandra’s innocent presence at Darvish’s side. Things were absolutely _perfect_ just as they were.

The weirdly harmonic counterpoint of Chandra’s skirling whistle of breathing, and Darvish’s low, rumbling snore were the perfect discordant melody to draw Aaron peacefully into slumber. 

**Author's Note:**

> Random Note: The title comes from the lyrics of the Meatloaf song 'Speaking in Tongues'. This song contains the phrases: "An erection of the heart" and "You got the spark — I've got wood"... and yet it's really quite sweet and totally inspired the writing of this fic.


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